


Retribution

by riverdale_imagines



Series: Sweet Pea [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Breakup, F/M, Friendship, Love, Violence, injuries, southside serpents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 12:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverdale_imagines/pseuds/riverdale_imagines
Summary: Sweet Pea and Y/N’s relationship ended rocky after a fight that ultimately changed them both for the worst. Despite their lack of civility toward each other, Y/N must recruit Sweet Pea for an upcoming Serpent mission.Word Count: 5.7K





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mentions of violence, and penny peabody.

> _The sound of a fist banging against a wooden surface echoed throughout the trailer; loud enough to be heard but not powerful enough to seize the commotion causing it. Instead, the conflict of voices took centre stage and drowned the perpetrators in blame and accusations, any excuse to prove that they were not in the wrong. Curses fell from lips like venom stunning its prey, belonging to a boy and a girl standing across from one another with furrowed brows and reddened eyes, tear stained cheeks decorating the faces with pain. The scene was purely the epitome of heartbreak and anybody looking on from the outside would recognise it as two worlds falling apart at the seams. They were intertwined souls once upon a time, but eventually, similar minds clash - they wear the other down until there is nothing left except for an empty shell and a bitter taste._
> 
> _“You can’t keep telling me what to do!” The shriek tone of your words bounced through the room, cracking at the final sounds._
> 
> _“Honestly, Y/N, it’s so fucking hard not to when you can’t do anything right?! You’re gonna get yourself in some deep shit, then what? I have to get you out of it like it’s my damn day job!” He retorted with as much strength, with as much blinded frustration._
> 
> _The strain of your throats burned as the screaming worsened; his poor choice of wording running laps in his mind the moment it escaped him unfiltered, “I can’t take it, I can’t take **you** anymore! Whatever is left of this fucking relationship… it’s pathetic, it’s nothing”. The indignancy of his laugh that followed  was more than a sure sign that your courtship needed to dissipate. The final thing uttered among the following silence was a small, “I hate you” aimed at the leftovers of what was once your loving boyfriend - your future. The structure of what was a happy home had now been torn to pieces with scattered glass and discarded furniture. Holes created distasteful artwork across the living room wall from where Sweet Pea had rearranged a dining chair the moment you stepped out that trailer door. The quietness, the bittersweet bliss of no sound after a catastrophe, was swallowing Sweet Pea whole and yet the only thing that weighed heavily on his shoulders was the thought of what the hell did he just let go of. _

* * *

> A month had passed and time had never moved so slowly. The fragments of your heart were still scattered in the wake of both physical and emotional destruction, too far gone to be put back together. The bags under your eyes were now permanently bruised with sleeplessness and your lips had yet found a reason to once again smile. It is a given, however, to feel such heartbreak after a broken promise of a once happy future, the loss of real love. You had managed to keep your distance from Sweet Pea, submerging yourself into an independent lifestyle away from both him and your friends. The feeling of being unwanted had cemented itself in your mind and seemingly provoked your choice to be an outcast. It was a hard feeling to ignore - not being good enough, the inability to do anything right -  _why would you burden the surrounding people with the flaws you so intimately possess?_  The thoughts were haunting you, all day and every day.
> 
> The portrayal of remorse now permanently wore thin across Sweet Pea’s face; alas his crinkled eyebrows and stiff composure was nothing compared to the fragility that wallowed deep within his chest.  It was as if every time he closed his eyes, he would see the sickening reminder of a shattered heart and the girl he loved dearly wearing it with worry in her eyes. The token of remembrance sitting on his dark wooden bureau was yet another constant reminder of the harsh words and poisonous tone that drove you away from him - the two happy faces that stared at Sweet Pea through a polaroid frame took him back to simpler times, with sincere laughter and stolen kisses among the summer breeze. He knew that he was wearing guilt as if it were a new trend, sparking a flame inside of his chest to drive his anger. He was allowing the hate you had for him to seep down to his bones to a point where he could’t turn back from. Sweet Pea was gone. 

* * *

> The Whyte Wyrm shook with each pound of the heavy music, portraying the popular Southside hangout as the epitome of every Saturday night. The atmosphere was nothing less than typical as leather cladded Serpents congregated in small groups among the many tables spread throughout the building; alcohol induced hilarity surrounded patrons at the infamous Whyte Wyrm bar and Serpents of all shapes and sizes gambled away their weeks pay under the dimmed spotlight above the billiard tables. A thin haze parted in front of your eyes as you opened the doors, the small breeze gathering from outside blowing in behind you. You didn’t want to be here - not when you knew that a particular tall Serpent would be stationed in the back corner, knuckles white from gripping his pool cue and pockets overflowing with cash winnings. If it wasn’t for Toni’s consistent begging you would be curled up in your bed, allowing the shadow caused by your sheets to camouflage the darkened bags under your eyes. Isolation would always be your easiest option. 
> 
> You heard his laugh before you laid eyes on him. It was as if the entirety of your body cringed, wanting to escape as fast as possible and hide from the secondary confrontation. You hugged your leather jacket closer to your body when you turned to corner and noticed his tone entangled with one of a female voice. His hand was placed on his new girl’s lower back - that’s how you knew he was smitten, he always used to do that to you when he wanted to show you off. The way his fingers gently grazed and danced over her exposed skin made your stomach churn, and if Fangs wasn’t behind you with waiting arms, then you would’ve definitely ended up passed out on the wooden floor.
> 
> “Hey, woah woah woah…” The smooth tone of Fangs’ voice cooed in your ear as you stumbled back against him, your body suddenly feeling weightless. Fangs’ grip tightened around your waist as he pulled your back against his chest, his chin grazing your shoulder as he lent down to your ear again. “Let’s go somewhere else, okay? You need to sit down, have some water… breathe… come on, Y/N”. He guided you across the bar, careful when dodging the larger statures of the older Serpents whilst they emptied their beer bottles and released thunderous claps of laughter. The sounds surrounding you were nothing except white noise due to the image of Sweet Pea cementing itself in the back of your mind. His smile - that damn, joyous smile, and you weren’t the reason behind it. Large hands danced in front of your face as a way of gathering your divided attention, not properly snapping you back to reality until the dripping texture of a cold water bottle was pressed against your palm. You shook your head and glanced at Fangs, “Did I really mean nothing to him?”
> 
> Your voice was strained although you tried to not let it crack. Fangs fell empathetic to your insecurities, provoking him to cup your cheeks and pout his lips. He looked into your eyes and noticed the bloodshot veins connecting to your pupils, a sure sign of both never ending tears and sleepless nights. He hated how you were so easily destroying yourself. He let out a saddened sigh, “You’re everything, Y/N, believe me. Sweets can’t deal with emotions which is why… his way of coping with heartbreak isn’t a generic one. It’s a fucking stupid one. That doesn’t mean though that you are demeaned”. It was difficult to formulate a reply to your friend, unsure whether a ‘thank you’ would suffice or if you were confident enough to expose all the struggles you’ve been facing. You decided on launching forward and embracing him in your arms, nose nuzzling against his shoulder, fingers twisted around the plaid material which hung effortlessly from his back. He was glad that you confided in him and held you back with all of the comfort he could muster. 
> 
> “He’s an ass. You need to set yourself free, don’t let him dictate your life anymore. Go be the girl we know you are and show ‘em all just how strong you can be.” 
> 
> “You really think I can do all that, Fangs?” You were timid as you pulled away from him, doubt still clouding you. He nodded his head.
> 
> “You’re a Serpent, Y/N. You can do anything.”

* * *

> You wish somebody had told you just how hard it would be to let something go - to pretend that it didn’t bother you anymore, wiping memories and images that were once so predominant in your mind and heart. It was as if you had to tear yourself limb from limb until an empty slate was all that remained, and then the rebuilding had to start. It took a while for you to block Sweet Pea from your life, especially as you both had friendship-custody of Toni and Fangs. Refusing eye contact came easily at first, but then you would hear his voice ~ that deep, gravely stupid tone that provoked your heart to thump against your chest. It would always bring back reminders of when you two were friends and then when you two turned to lovers, tangled beneath your sheets with your cheek pressed against his bare chest. 
> 
> The longer you had spent away from the taller serpent, the more your hatred grew. Toni told you numerous times that isolating yourself from the problem would further harm your broken relationship with Sweet Pea, but you didn’t listen. You never did. If moving on and letting go meant that you had to strain the last speckle of hope that you had, then so be it. Fangs would try and convince you to talk to him just once, often explaining that Sweet Pea still drowned himself in remorse and guilt for the words he spat at you. “Y/N he’s not happy, and you know Pea more than all of us, if he has even the tiniest slither of guilt it’ll eat at him until there’s nothing left.”
> 
> “But there’s nothing left of  ** _me_** , Fangs! Don’t you get that! The insecurities that I gained from him… knowing that I’m not good enough, questioning if I ever was? It’s killing me. I can’t face him. All of this progress I’ve made…”
> 
> Fangs cut you off, “ _Progress_? Ignoring him isn’t progress. How can you move on when you push it aside?! Just… try, for me. He’s a good guy. You both need closure… you both need,  _something_ …”.
> 
> A defeated sigh fell from your lips, mimicking your head as it lent down to cradle between your hands. You could feel your body screaming out for help through the exhaustion of your muscles and limbs, your eyelids weighing heavy every day. The last time you slept properly was in the arms of Sweet Pea. The last time you smiled, laughed, felt happy was in the arms of Sweet Pea. Everything would always come back to him. “You told me to set myself free, Fangs. To be strong.”
> 
> “If I knew you’d take this route and slowly destroy yourself, then I would never have said those things to you. I’m sorry, Y/N… I am so sorry that this shit had to happen” His arm dropped around your shoulders, fitting comfortably as it always did before pulling you into his side. This wouldn’t have been the first time within the past month that you had sobbed into his shoulder, temporary affection to help settle your tears. Fangs’ large hand spread against your back and moved in comforting circle motions, small ‘shush’ sounds lulling you to a near comotose state. You sighed once more, “I’ll talk to him. Not now… not about any of this feelings bullshit, but I will say something.” 
> 
> He smiled against your hair, “That’s my girl”. 

* * *

> You stood still with crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow, gazing over Toni as she attempted to push herself from her couch. Small groans pressed through her lips to compliment her now pale complexion and the small beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m  _fine_.” She murmured, however the wavering of her voice said otherwise. The atmosphere of her trailer was melancholic, emphasised by the neglected closed curtains and musky smell of little-to-no ventilation. She noticed you gazing around the darkened room when she cleared her throat, “Has FP given you the details for tomorrows job yet?” You scoffed in reply before uncrossing your arms, hands now settling on the curve of your hips, “Tones you’re clearly sick. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you go”. 
> 
> Your pink haired friend huffed loudly, falling back and crashing onto the lounge beneath her. Toni always seemed so composed - strong bodied and strong minded - therefore seeing her in an exhausted state only confirmed that something was indeed wrong. Sitting beside her feet, you reached out and patted her leg, offering a sweet smile, “You look like shit, Toni, you need to rest. Call Cheryl, let her come over and look after you. I’ll talk to FP about finding a replacement”. Your friend’s eyes narrowed almost instatly, a rush of anxiety flooding her system; she was known for her determination and the stubbornness of her personality which allowed her to always get her way, and when she couldn’t get what she wanted, Toni rioted. 
> 
> “No, no, no, no!” She shrieked, your body startled by the sudden raise of her voice. Toni launched into a seated position as she curled herself into the corner of the lounge, legs tangled with each other and facing you. “I will be there. We’re gonna go do that drop off and stop at Pop’s for fries on the way home. Like we always do”. Much like a child, she started to whine. Refusals fell from her lips which only indicated her famous headstrong antics, dripping with excuses and false hope about her current status of health. However, you knew her well enough to see that she was only trying to convince herself more so than you. Toni was about to continue her spiel before she rolled from the lounge, scuttling to the bathroom and slamming the door with a loud  _bang_. The unnerving sound of heaving bouncing off the bathroom tiles made your own stomach turn, your hand covering you mouth as your eyes screwed shut. There was no way in hell you were letting her partake in tomorrows mission. With a sharp intake, you inhaled before exhaling a loud sigh and reached for your phone to text Cheryl. 
> 
> The Runaway’s “ _Cherry Bomb_ ” rung down the hallway, alerting you that Cheryl was calling Toni. You awaited the yelling of your name as your arms slid into the sleeves of your iconic jacket, the snake emblem settling against your back as Toni hauled into the room. “Y/N. You did  **not** just call Cheryl!” With shoulders lifting into a shrug, you smirked, “I didn’t call her, Toni, I texted her. I’d rather you stay home than instead throwing up the entire way to and from that damn job. I’ll be okay.” You didn’t leave much room for any opposing comments as you hooked your arm around the strap of your bag, a mischievous yet sympathetic smirk settling between your cheeks. The darkness swallowing Toni’s trailer made it hard to see in front of you, but you could tell that she was sulking as she never liked backing down from an opportunity. “Relax, Topaz I’ll see you in a couple of days.” Your voice softly called out as you backed toward the door, a gentle click of the lock following your departure.

* * *

> FP’s office much resembled what you have seen of his home - papers scattered every inch of the dark wooden desk as they also decorated spare patches of exposed floorboards; numerous used coffee mugs were discarded in various places, making you wonder when was the last time he did the dishes; and shut blinds covered in a thinkened layer of dust, sure enough to cause some serious asthmatic problems down the road if not cleaned soon. You felt a pang of guilt for worrying FP when you knew that he was facing troubles of his own, mostly revolving around the clash between Serpents and Ghoulies which have yet to dissapate after years of violence and messy situations. He sat hunched over on his office chair, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he flicked through the day planner in front of him. He may look like he didn’t have his shit together, but FP was indeed very organised when it came down to business. 
> 
> The older man hummed under his breath, “Fangs and Jug are already assigned to something tonight… as for Chains and Straps, one has a broken leg after last weeks Ghoulie job and the other ‘s outta town. We’ve got very limited options here, Y/N…” He started to speak a little louder as he lowered his glasses, folding them before slipping the pair into his jacket pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and started nodding along to FP’s words. The job was specifically for the junior serpents, the older ones already assigned to much more complicated matters, which meant that you knew what was going to happen and you dreaded to think of the way tomorrow would run with _ **him**_  by your side. Large fingers were snapped in front of your eyes to draw your attention back to the conversation, FP’s head tilted to the side in confusion at your sudden drifting away. “So uh, it’s gotta be Sweet Pea. No one else is available, Y/N.” 
> 
> Your heart sank.
> 
> “There really isn’t anyone else?” Your eyes grew as you pleaded, now sitting on the edge of your seat with a begging tone and hopeful intertwining of fingers. The Serpent King cleared his throat and closed his book before sitting back, “You have to push the past behind you for now, darlin’, at least until tomorrow is done and dusted. Unfortunately that’s just the way this has gotta go. The job is your first priority”. There was no use trying to negotiate with FP - he was clearly stressed, preoccupied by things that were more complicated than a tiff with your ex-love. You rose from your seat and left after accepting your unfortunate fate, giving FP a swift nod as a farewell. 
> 
> You heard his voice before you finished descending the staircase within the Wyrm; an indication for you to mentally prepare yourself for your first interaction in months. With shaky legs you made your way to the back of the bar, the familiar scent of cheap beer and cue chalk flooding your lungs and creating unwanted flashbacks of the simpler days. Due to the shift in your emotional state, you haven’t found yourself in these parts of the Wyrm since you were in a relationship - seemingly, as your plan to isolate yourself from both  _ **him**_  and your friends meant that the billiard tables were strictly out of bounds. Your feet stopped shuffling across the floorboards when you became face to body with Sweet Pea, his tongue peeking through the crease of his lips as he stared at the green felt table-top. 
> 
> “What do you want?”  He grumbled indirectly toward you, eventually taking his shot and smirking with satisfaction when the striped ball was pocketed. He refused to give you eye contact as he moved to his next position and hunched over the table once more, his focus primarily on the game. You followed him around the table before stopping and leaning against the edge, portraying enough faux confidence that it might seem real enough, “We need to talk.”. It became obvious that Sweet Pea wasn’t going to play along nicely when he scoffed loudly at your statement, another striped ball rolling perfectly into its opposing pocket. You let out a small grunt in order to continue the conversation, “Toni is sick and can’t do our job tomorrow. Everybody else has their own shit to do and you’re the only one left.” 
> 
> He did nothing but hum in reply, instead using his hip to push you aside so he can line up his next shot. Your foot started to nervously tap against the floor beneath you when no more words were shared, allowing the silence to create an awkward ambience, “Tomorrow we’re gonna meet outside the Drive-In at 5. Takes forty minutes to drive there, make the drop, then straight home. No more than a couple of hours, tops, then we’re outta each other’s hair. Got it?” Your voice was stern as it possessed underlying strength, pridefullness wearing thick across your face. In true Sweet Pea fashion, he huffed out a small ‘whatever’ before his eyes managed to lock onto yours. It was as if you were staring into a foreign soul - the chocolate swirl of his pupils now clouded with a darkened shade; no light, no emotion swimming within them as they always had when you were curled against his body all that time ago. He was unrecogniseable. 
> 
> “See you then.” You didn’t want your voice to crack - not now, not in front of him. But the moment you saw into his soul for the first time in months, it was hard to not let all of those buried emotions resurface. You held your head high and walked off with little confidence you had left, unknowing that Sweet Pea was still watching you; reliving you walking away from him once more. “Sweetie, what was all that about?” A voice broke his concentration on your disappearing image, the same girl from before attaching herself to his side again and letting her hand slip into his back jean pocket. Sweet pea couldn’t help but tense awkwardly at her touch. He shook his head and allowed his face to contort back to it’s now permanent scowl, “It was nothing, ignore it.” 

* * *

> The Drive-In was always a place of solitude for you and your friends. When life got a little too hard, when the  _Serpents_  got a little too hard, you could always rely on this sanctuary known for bonding friendships and a good film. However, the day of its closing was one that tugged at an emotional tether linked to your heart - things weren’t quite the same within the Southside since that day. All that remained was a dilapidated building with exceptionally long grass that stood where Fangs dad’s truck once did, the bodies of you and your friends piled in the tray with a multitude of blankets and pillows for comfort forever burnt as a colorful memory at the back of your mind. 
> 
> The darkened shade of the sunset sky is what brought you back to present time as it played a reminder to why you were sitting,  _alone_ , outside of the Twilight Drive-In. Your phone was clutched tightly between slender fingers as it waited for any notification on where Sweet Pea’s whereabouts may be. Alike FP, the taller Serpent took business very seriously, so it was definitely out of character for him to show up late to a job. After an hour since your arrival and still no word from your assigned partner in crime, you took it upon yourself to call Sweet Pea for what would be the fifth time this evening. The dial tone made you more anxious than you should have been, wondering if he was purposely ignoring your call or if something bad had gotten to him first. You evidently cringed at the huskiness of his voice message as it rung in your ears, “ _Hey it’s SP. Leave a message if you want_ ”. 
> 
> With a shaking thumb, you hung up the dead-end call.
> 
> A mumble fell from your lips as you pushed off the side of your bike, your next move was purely dependant on what FP had said earlier - _ **this job is your first priority**_. If Sweet Pea wasn’t going to make an appearance, then you’d just have to suck it up and go out on your own. You mentally prepared yourself for the night ahead as your fingers fumbled with your helmet strap and secured it under your chin. The disappearing sun summoned a cold breeze, forcing your shoulders to rise and fall with each rush as it shot through the leather jacket and danced down your spine. It was yet another indication that time was getting the best of you and nightfall was getting closer by the second. The chill temperature only got worse as your bike started to weave through the blur of the Southside, trees and street lights disappearing over your shoulder before you were submerged in the darkness of the highway. All that had to be done was a drop and run - it sounded simple, simple enough to be completed on your lonesome. You didn’t need Sweet Pea.

* * *

> You were draped over your Harley’s handlebars, a hiss pushing against your front teeth to complement the scrunching of your eyes casued by the pain that ran through you as if your adrenaline was on steroids. It was affecting your sight and what was left of your sanity, ultimately bringing you to a physical downfall. Blood was slipping through the fingers that attempted to cover the fresh wound on your cheek and you couldn’t help but create a chain of curses under your breath -  _it wasn’t meant to go down this way_. It was of great unexpectancy when you were met with the distasteful faces of Penny Peabody and her crew during your drop off, and even more so when you were suddenly pinned to the ground with the sharp texture of a pocketknife held against your face. Now here you were, singlehandedly pushing your bike along the highway connecting Riverdale and Greendale, body bruised and destroyed beyond individual repair. It’d be a lie to say that the others got off worse, but at least you got away. Barely.
> 
> It soon became difficult to keep your eyes open; nearly missing Riverdale’s welcome sign as your body slowly fell in and out of consciousness. A small smile tugged at your lips as you caught glimpse of  _The Town With Pep_ , a slogan which you had always disagreed with but it was nothing less of a reminder that you were close to home. The streets were lifeless as you rolled through; reflective of the large town clock striking half past two in the morning, it’s chime echoing off the old architectured buildings and bare streets. For the Northside this was a usual Saturday night, however you belonged on the South, meaning that you knew the Whyte Wyrm would still be lit up in a variety of neon lights and swallowed by a mist of cigarette smoke. It wasn’t everybody’s piece of cake, but it was your home. 

* * *

> “Have you seen Y/N? She’s going straight to voicemail.” Toni’s voice was laced with worry as she approached Sweet Pea who was immersed in a game of Mortal Combat, Fangs tailing her with his phone pressed to his ear. She looked over her shoulder with a questioning glance, however Fangs just shook his head, indicating that he was once again unsuccessful in reaching you. Her anxiety started to flare when midnight came and she had yet to hear from you about the job, provoking her to leave her sick ridden bed and set out on a search party. Fangs was nothing but determined to join her. Toni’s eyebrow remained quirked as she nudged the taller serpents arm, a grunt received as his reaction. “ ** _What_** , Topaz? I haven’t seen her. We’re not exactly the best of friends, you know.” He snapped immediately, his tone raising an octave or two to overtake the noise level surrounding them. Fangs and Toni shrunk back from Sweet Pea’s large stance, confusion etching across their faces. The pink-haired serpent crossed her arms over her chest, “The hell you talking about? You’re here and she’s not. We checked her trailer, where else could she have gone after the job?”.
> 
> Sweet Pea’s face dropped, “ _What job?_ ”
> 
> “What do you mean  _what job_? Are you  **fucking** kidding me right now? Don’t you dare tell me that she went out there all by herself, you jackass-” “Hey, hey, hey… Toni! Come on, back up a bit.” Fangs interjected, concern weighing heavily upon his shoulders as he stood between his two friends, hands shoved in both directions to keep them apart. If it wasn’t for the loud thump of the Wyrm’s doors opening, Fangs was sure that Toni would have shown Sweet Pea what she was made of. The collection of eyes around the crowded hangout focused on your figure as it emerged from the shadows of the night, a strong gust of wind following you from the outside. You started to move forward as you locked onto your target sitting at the bar, Serpents of all ages and sizes moving out of your way before eyeing the unmissable slice that decorated your cheek. The silence emitting from the patrons mirrored the baron streets of Riverdale, however all you heard was the loud thumping of your heart battling against your chest. 
> 
> You slammed the wooden top of the bar, a parcel left behind as you pulled away. You cleared your throat, attempting to keep your tone neutral as your physical state prevented you to show any sort of emotion, “There was an ambush”. A stare of perplexidy left FP Jones as he peered at the package which was supposedly dropped to Greendale hours ago. His eyebrow cocked whilst he turned to look at you, words unable to be spoken the moment he saw the slash and splatters of dried blood across your face, complementing the bluish bruises adorning your exposed skin. You looked like hell. “Y/N…” He started, still finding himself in utter speechlessness. As if a magnetised force, your line of sight had found Sweet Pea’s across the room - his eyes portraying sympathy and alarm whilst you remained stoic. You chuckled dryly before looking back to the Serpent King, shaking your head. If only they knew what you’d gone through. It was an absent-minded desicision when you started to leave the bar, looking back to FP one last time as you called out, “Penny Peabody says hi, by the way.” 

* * *

> Sweet Pea didn’t notice that he was holding his breath until Fangs knocked his shoulder, ultimately knocking the breath out of him as well. The tall Serpent stayed fixated on the doors of the Wyrm with complete regret, mentally kicking himself for allowing you to complete a job on your own. White noise filled his ears as Toni continued to reprimand him but he didn’t care, he knew that he had done wrong, and you were hurt because of his stubborness. His concentration broke when he noticed the doors once again opening, wishing that you would waltz back into the hangout with a clear face and brightened smile, only this time it was Fangs leaving to chase after you instead. Sweets’ hands flew into the air, a loud growl pushing from his throat, “I get it, Toni. I fucked up. I  _always_  fuck up. I fucked up our relationship, I fucked up with… whatever that damn girl’s name is, and I fucked up by not fucking listening to her when she told me about the fucking job she went to by her fucking self because didn’t want to pick up the goddamn phone-”
> 
>  “Sweet Pea, you need to snap out of it!” Toni declared, her hand swiftly swiping across his cheek in hopes of settling his upcoming panic attack. He glared at her in return, daring another bold move to come his way, but Toni instead shook her head. A loud sigh fell from her lips - she felt lost, unknowing of how to help both you and Sweet Pea through this entire mess. When her eyes flicked from her feet back up to Sweets, she noticed the glaze of upcoming tears cover the deepened brown of his pupils. She was about to attempt consolation when FP barged through the gossiping Serpent crowd, a mixture of anger and confusion knotting his brows and provoking the worry lines on his forehead to protrude. He was quick to grap Sweet Pea by the collar of his jacket and shove him harshly against the panneling of the wall, heat radiating off of him due to his newly profound realization. FP gruffed, not holding back when it came to raising his voice, “ _WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU, BOY_?! No Serpent stands alone! No Serpent is left for dead! Do I need to etch that into your  **damn skull** , Sweet Pea!”
> 
> Toni gasped, reaching for FP’s bicep where she gently tried to pry him away from the broken boy. “FP… please, let him breathe. Let him explain himself.”
> 
> “There is no excuse for carelessness, Antoinette. If Sweet Pea wants to prove himself, then he has to fix this goddamn mess himself. Got it?” The Serpent King narrowed his eyes in Sweets’ direction, the boy lathargic as he remembered the look on your face when he saw you enter the bar - that familiar smile replaced with deadened eyes and an unmissable wound. He nodded slowly to FP’s demand, eventually pushing away from the wall and heading off into the early hours of Sunday morning. 


End file.
